


Football Song

by garconrouge



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: ADHD Character(s), Alternate Universe - Sports, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Canon Trans Character, Carlos is the head of the trans defence squad, Comedy, Coming Out, Deaf Character, Fluff and Humor, Football, Football | Soccer, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Lack of Communication, M/M, Not a Single Braincell To Be Found, Pigeons, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Sign Language, Trans Male Character, based on a cheesy gay Matt Fishel song, bc its druck and matteo is a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-03-18 01:39:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18976129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garconrouge/pseuds/garconrouge
Summary: Matteo Florenzi was not, and never had been, interested in sports. Despite the constant explanations and exhortations he'd received from his friends, he had never been able to find any amount of fun in running around a field of grass in the rain. He had better things to be doing with his life, like getting high or playing video games.That is until his friends drag him along to the last game of the season, and he meets the team captain, with his dark brown hair and quiet charisma. Matteo suspects he might start coming to watch his friends' matches a little more often, now.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how I managed it, but I wrote all of this in one night. A super big thank you to Ellie (blueteatime) for being my own personal cheerleader in the discord while I wrote, it means a lot to me <3

Matteo Florenzi was not, and never had been, interested in sports. Despite the constant explanations and exhortations he'd received from his friends, he had never been able to find any amount of fun in running around a field of grass in the rain. He had better things to be doing with his life, like getting high or playing video games.

This disinterest in sports had never been much of a bother to his life before now. Before he'd moved schools again, and reunited with the old friends he hadn't seen much of since he was eleven. They'd been incredibly alike, back then. Four young, bright-eyed boys who loved Pokémon cards and pretending to be bank robbers. But the years Matteo had spent apart from the others had led them in different directions- Jonas, Abdi and Carlos had grown a deep love for football, whereas Matteo much preferred video games and weed. His new/old friends loved those things too, don't get him wrong- it's just that they also thought there was more to life than getting high and playing Zelda.

His friends' strong passion for sport was how Matteo now found himself packed tightly into the back of a swelteringly hot bus, stuck right in the middle seat of the back row. It wasn't too bad of a place to be sat, in all fairness. He could look out of the windscreen unobstructed. It'd make it easier to block out the ridiculous displays of machismo going on around him, that made him almost regret agreeing to come along in the first place.

_"It's the last game of the season, bro, you have to come!" Jonas had pleaded, hands clasped in a spectacular presentation of the dramatic. Abdi and Carlos stood at his sides, Matteo looking up at the trio from where he sat on the café bench._

_"You've never seen us play before, we're actually fucking good. There's a chance we might win!" Carlos added, and Matteo wasn't reassured by just how shocked he had sounded at the concept of their team not losing the game._

_"I'm just not that interested in football," Matteo had said truthfully, "there's not much point in me coming. I'll be bored, no offense, and it won't be fun for you guys having to deal with me not enjoying myself at all." He was sincerely hoping that they'd see how right he was. There was no way Matteo would actually have fun at this match, unless he found somewhere secluded to sneak a joint before the game, and even then he didn't particularly like the idea of a high being wasted watching some idiots run around a football pitch. Even if they were his favourite idiots._

_"If you come, I'll pay for your share of the next ounce."  Abdi offered._

_"Deal."_

He'd always been a sucker for a good bribe.

The bus was stuffy. He wasn't sure what he had expected, willingly boarding a vehicle full of hyped-up teenage boys, but he certainly hadn't anticipated just how hot it'd be. Matteo was on the verge of sacrificing a layer or two so as not to succumb to heatstroke. Jonas was pressing into him on one side, Abdi on the other. Carlos was taking up the two seats beside the window on the left, legs bent and feet scuffing the fabric of the seat. His friends' bags were all piled atop one another on the window seat beside Abdi, who was leaning on them gracelessly, one arm slung over the top. If Matteo hadn't been able to feel his foot tapping out the beat of the song playing through his headphones, he'd be convinced he'd fallen asleep.

Alongside the heat, there was something else in the air. A certain buzzing flowing through each and every person who'd clambered the small metal steps up and onto the bus. The energy that came with the game, and the anticipation of a win, he figured. Everybody else on the bus, be they team members, friends, or members of staff who were possibly a little too invested in a school football team, couldn't keep the beaming grins off of their faces or the glee from their voices. There was a solid sense of community running throughout the bus, the fifty-odd people who had left their individual lives at the door and come together to support and invest in one singular goal- winning the season. It was nice. Matteo felt saddened by the fact that this excitement was one he couldn't seem to access.

He had very little personal interest in what was happening around him. He'd only moved to this school a few months ago, and as such had very little pride or patriotism for his place of education. He didn't care for the sport, either, so he couldn't feel any excitement about the prospect of watching the upcoming game. Additionally, this was the first game he'd ever bore witness to, and as such he hadn't had the time or knowledge to invest himself in the outcome of the whole season. All he knew, all he cared to know, was that they had beaten every other team in their path.

And so, Matteo's only personal investment in this event was the three friends beside him. He loved the three of them to death, and he sincerely hoped, for their sakes, that they won this game. He could tell by the way they babbled about it together, voices quickening and teeth bared in grins. It was the closest he'd seen the three to the tiny, excitable boys he'd known in the past. They wanted this win, needed it so deeply that it was all they'd spoken about for days. And as much disinterest as Matteo had for sports, he loved his friends much more. While he couldn't share their excitement or have his heart beat for the sport the same way theirs did, he could still be there to cheer them on.

Silence fell across the bus at the sign of movement from the front. It was the type of silence one only encounters when amongst a crowd eagerly awaiting the words of a beloved leader. The type that needs no announcement, no shushing or requests for quiet. The type of silence where each and every person present is waiting with bated breath for what was to come next.

A member of the team had stood in the aisle of the bus, one arm resting on the seat he'd just risen from. The bus was moving beneath them, Matteo could feel the slight jolts and vibrations under his feet, but this didn't seem to affect the boy in any way. He stood his ground, not swaying an inch despite the movement around him. This must be the captain, he surmised. He'd heard the others speak about him occasionally, and from what he could grasp his friends held him in high regard. Matteo had never seen the boy before- in fact, he'd never met any of the other members of the team. He didn't tend to speak to many people outside of his very small circle of friends, and if he did it was always those he had known as a small child. He wasn't one for making new friends.

He may have to make an exception for this captain, however.

Matteo watched him prepare to speak, and he felt a tug on his heart as he did so. The captain's brown hair fell near-perfectly right above his eyelashes, in such a careless manner that Matteo felt a little frustrated that _his_ hair never fell so neatly. His mother had likened the mess atop his head to a birds' nest on several occasions, and he supposed she wasn't wrong. Everything about the captain seemed just as thoughtlessly beautiful, from the plain black shirt and grey sweatpants he was wearing to the way his shoes were untied in _just_ the right way. Matteo couldn't help but study the man.

 The captain began to speak, and Matteo could instantly see why his friends admired him so much.

 "Everyone!" he beamed, "as most of you know, my name is David, the captain of the team. We've had some excellent games in the past few weeks, you've all outdone yourselves with how well you've played. I couldn't ask for a better team, and I'm proud to call myself your captain." There were whoops from around the bus at that, the loudest of all from Carlos and Jonas. Abdi was silent, and Matteo suspected he may have _actually_ fallen asleep by now. "Yes, quite," he continued, a small smile on his face from the support of his team. "This season has been the best this team has seen in a long time, and that's because of the hard work put in by each and every one of you. Whether we win or lose this game, you should all be proud of yourselves. We've achieved much more in these past few weeks than we ever thought we could, and for that I thank you all. This is it, the game we've been heading towards all year. So are you with me? Are we gonna win this thing?"

 The whole bus went into a frenzy at his words, people banging on their seats, whooping, fists punching into the air. Everyone was in agreement- this game was theirs to win, and they were going to fight their damn hardest to make sure that it happened. Jonas took the revelry one step farther, and began a chant of "David! David! David! David!" that quickly took over the whole bus. Even Matteo joined in- the captain, David, and his quiet but sure charisma had won him over. While he still cared little for the game itself, he could always lend himself to the celebration and excitement over a great speech. It helped that the one delivering the speech was, Matteo thought, unreasonably attractive. How it could be that one man in a simple black shirt and grey sweatpants could be so handsome, he didn't know. He also didn't know what the feeling was settling in the pit of his stomach. Not quite envy, for his appearance or the carelessly neat way his hair fell or the way everyone around him seemed to adore their leader, but not quite pride. He didn't know enough about the man to be proud of him. No, this was something different entirely.

 David smiled at the chanting, bowing his head in a humble manner, his hand waving beside him in the air as if to dissuade the adoration. "You should be celebrating yourselves," he laughed, "it's you guys who've been working so hard all this time. I've just been here to help you along." And with that, he sat back down in his seat, hugging the blonde girl seated beside him. And just as soon as he did, the commotion died down and the bus returned to how it was only minutes before- except now, that excitement had tripled. David had psyched up both players and crowd, and they were all ready for the game. Matteo couldn't help but gape at the space their captain had only recently vacated. He had never encountered anybody who could both silence and rile up a crowd with such ease, and then be so humble about it. He could only see such power, such adoration going straight to the head of whoever wielded it. This captain, however, completely subverted each and every expectation Matteo had. He could do nothing but marvel at the spectacle he had just witnessed. He already understood just how and why his friends were so enamoured with their leader.

 The feeling in his stomach still hadn't gone away. He didn't think it would for a while, now. He still wasn't certain what it was, but it felt like his insides were doing back-flips any time he thought about the brown haired captain he'd just heard speak.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been staring vacantly into the distance before Jonas jostled his shoulder.

 "Bro, you good?" he asked, scanning Matteo's face for any sign of upset or bother. Matteo blinked rapidly, clearing his thoughts as he shook his head a little.

 "Yeah, yeah, I'm good I just... zoned out a little there," he laughed. Jonas laughed along, but seemed unconvinced.

 "Are you sure?" he asked, a hand now resting supportively on Matteo's shoulder, "because you've seemed pretty out of it since David started talking. You're still up for the game, right?"

 "Of course, dude!" Matteo smiled, nodding now, "I'm not gonna pass up free weed from Abdi. That shit's expensive." Jonas grinned for real, this time, and even if Matteo had adjusted his reasoning for attending the game from _'free weed'_ to _'loving and supporting friends'_ , Jonas need never know. This was his life, not some sort of cheesy teen movie.

 Matteo was glad he'd managed to get Jonas off of his back. He was fine, truthfully, and he didn't really know why he had been so fixated on the empty spot left behind by the team's captain. Maybe his dad was right, and the weed was slowly killing off his brain cells. He wouldn't really be surprised. His dad tended to be right about a lot of things, it just always took Matteo longer than it should've to realise that.

 As if to save him from falling down the hole of overthinking the situation with his parents, the bus hit a pothole in the road. This caused the whole vehicle to jolt downwards suddenly, with an audible thud. All was fine for himself, Jonas, and Carlos, who was now fiddling with the velcro on his goalkeeper's gloves. The same could not be said for Abdi.

 When the bus lurched down, the pile of bags he had been resting on toppled suddenly, falling to the floor of the bus and bringing Abdi with them. Matteo watched, entertained as his friend was suddenly dragged from his seat and down onto the floor by his own sports bag. Abdi's headphones were plugged into his phone. At some point during the journey, he had clearly thought that it was a brilliant idea to tuck his phone underneath Jonas's sports bag, which had been sitting at the bottom of the pile, and hadn't originally fallen when the others did. The cable pulled as Abdi fell, tugging on his phone from over the bag. It wasn't long before Jonas's bag came tumbling down too, this one landing on top of Abdi, who made an audible "oof".

 Any attention drawn towards Matteo in the last few moments was gone in an instant, and everyone close enough to see was quickly fixated on what had happened to Abdi. Carlos was laughing from behind him, and Matteo turned to see that he was filming the heap of boy and bags with glee. He looked forward to reliving the event through Carlos's snapchat story later.

 Abdi hadn’t even had chance to clamber up off of the floor when the bus began to slow, eventually coming to a full stop as the doors opened and people moved to get up and out of their seats. Abdi's legs were sprawled across Matteo and Jonas's feet, trapping in both them and Carlos.

 "You need to move, Abdi," Jonas laughed, kicking his shin lightly, "we can't get out."

 "Yeah neither can I!" Abdi said, seeming more than a little alarmed. In the commotion, his headphones had shifted across his head, with one ear landing right in the middle of his face, covering half of his nose and obscuring his vision. Matteo had to stifle down a laugh.

 "What do you mean you can't get up, dude, just move!" Carlos joined in, trying to stand in front of his seat. He ended up with his legs placed precariously around Abdi's feet in order not to step on him.

 "I cannot move!" Abdi protested yet again, thrashing his legs around as if that would help his point somewhat. All it did was cause him to kick Carlos repeatedly. This resulted in several shouts of pain and confusion from Carlos, to which Jonas joined in as he attempted and failed to retrieve his bag from where it laid on top of Abdi. It got caught on the underside of the chair in front, and instead of stopping what he was doing and re-evaluating the situation, Jonas's plan seemed to just be 'keep pulling it until it comes loose or breaks the seat'. Abdi was still shouting about being stuck, and even Matteo himself was getting stressed at the situation. His feet were pinned under Abdi's thighs, and he couldn't even stand up. Quickly, all four of them were shouting, and the ruckus was drawing significant attention towards the four of them.

 A pair of arms slowly entered the midst, taking the bag from Jonas's hands and gently working it free from where it had caught on the seat. Matteo looked up from his friend on the floor, to see the team captain, David, calmly working to help resolve the situation. He watched as he placed the bag down on a nearby empty seat, crouched down beside Abdi and offered him a hand. It was taken swiftly, and within moments Abdi had been rescued from his confinement on the floor, and was back safely on two feet.

 "You guys need to be more careful," David laughed, a playful head tilt accompanying his words, "it's an important game today, and I'd much prefer it if my centre forward, goalkeeper and their..." his eyes lingered on Matteo for a moment, looking him up and down, "...friend, _didn't_ kill a winger an hour before the game." And with that, he left, the four of them silent for a few moments. Matteo watched him leave the bus, eyes oddly fixated on the captain as he grabbed his own bag and descended the steps.

 "We weren’t going to kill you," Carlos said, walking over towards the two bags still remaining on the floor.

 "Are you sure?" Abdi asked, sounding shaken from the experience, "it kind of felt like you were going to kill me."

 "Nobody's killing anyone," Matteo said, patting Abdi and Carlos on the shoulder with either arm. "You three have a game to win."

 And with one simple mention of the upcoming match, the three of them perked up suddenly. Carlos swung his bag over his shoulder with confidence, and Abdi hurried to grab his own. Jonas smiled at Matteo, a subtle nod of recognition sent his way. Jonas knew that Matteo hadn't been particularly invested in the game, and seemed to be thankful for any words of encouragement.

 The four of them clambered off the bus together, Matteo squinting when the bright light of the sun met his eyes. The bus had tinted windows, and it was a lot dimmer than the outside world. He watched as his three friends approached their coach, who started to give them directions to where the changing rooms were. The three took off, and the coach looked at Matteo curiously.

 "Not seen you at one of these before. You watching?" he asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

 "Ah, yeah," Matteo replied, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck as if on instinct. He'd never spoken to the coach before, and was unsure what kind of a man he was.

 "Well, you'll want to be making your way over to the pitch. If you follow the path behind me, it'll lead you straight to it." This made Matteo hesitate- he didn't quite feel like sitting alone on the side of the pitch for the hour or so it would take for everyone to be ready and the game to begin. The months hadn't yet turned cold, but the slight breeze running through the air could easily cause a chill to run through his bones if he sat outside in it longer than he needed to.

 "Actually, I kinda need to pee," he lied, putting on an intentionally awkward look, "is it okay if I go inside and use the bathroom?"

 "Yes, okay, go on then," the coach dismissed, before adding on a hasty "oh, but there's Sunday schooling going on inside. Don't wander, or disturb anyone."

 Matteo replied simply with a nod. He was fully intending on wandering, but the coach didn't need to know that. He walked towards the school, eyeing the building with distaste as he did so. It was a large, modern building. One that Matteo was certain had only been put up within the last decade or so. The exterior walls were bright white and blue, and the grass lining the main door was disconcertingly perfect. This was exactly the type of place that would offer Sunday schooling, he thought as he entered.

 Everything inside looked just as perfectly maintained. He wondered how it could be possible to keep up such high standards of appearance, when students filled the halls six days a week and there was surely no time in between to clean up the mess they made. Or maybe they made no mess at all. He was almost certain this was a private school, and he wouldn't put it past private school kids to be the kind too meek and repressed to ever dare leave a mess behind in a respectful place.

 This particular school was so different to the two Matteo had attended, it was almost like mild culture shock. Matteo was so used to at least a small amount of dirt and mess, scuff marks on the hallway floors and half-scrubbed graffiti on the lockers. Neither of the schools he had attended were _bad_ schools, neither particularly 'rough'- but they carried the wear and tear typical of a building where many teenagers gathered.

 His old school was the worst of the three, he decided. While his parents had been assured by one of his aunts that it was one of the best public schools in the area, he had seen no evidence of that himself. One particular teacher he recalled taking leave for an entire year, leaving them stuck with a string of hopeless substitutes who knew nothing about the subject they were supposed to be teaching, floundering at the fact that no instruction had been left behind.

 He'd later discovered the truth behind that particular teacher's absence- he had moved to Mallorca on a whim, lying to the school that his mother had fallen ill. _"One of the best public schools in the area"_.

 He hadn't particularly disliked the school, despite its mismanagement and teachers disappearing to Spanish islands. It was a decent enough place, and the people were friendly to him. Once he'd settled properly, and resigned to the idea that he'd likely never get to be close friends with Jonas, Abdi, and Carlos again, it hadn't been too bad. He'd almost been sad to leave when he'd realised that he couldn't bear the thought of adding the extra twenty or so minutes to his daily journey that living in his new flatshare brought him.

He hadn't actively loved being there, though. He didn't really care either way, which was the issue. Once he'd realised it would be easier to switch to the closer school, the one his old friends from elementary school now attended, any twinge of sadness completely disappeared. While he'd kept in infrequent contact with the three throughout the years, it was nothing compared to the tight knit relationship they'd had before. The one the other three had continued to nurture without him.

 He tried not to think about that. The three had done their best to make him feel appreciated and wanted in the group, and it was hard to tell they'd ever been apart. That didn't stop Matteo from being a little bitter about those lost years, however. He was just glad that he had been able to transfer and get his old friends back. At least something good came out of the breakdown in his relationship with his parents, he thought.

He'd been wandering for quite a while now, completely losing track of time as he paced through unfamiliar halls. He hadn't paid much attention to where he was going, either, and so one could argue that he'd managed to get himself lost inside of a school. Not that that was difficult in this particular building, where each corridor looked identical to the last. He certainly had no clue how to get out of the endless corridors and back on to the pitch now, however, which presented an issue. He pulled out his phone, hoping to check the time and message Jonas or Abdi and plead to be rescued. He cursed as the screen refused to turn on. It had run out of battery life at some point since he got off the bus. He had no way to check the time, and definitely no way to contact the others for help. _I may die here_ , he thought, _in a fucking private school._

He decided, on a whim, to bite the bullet and do something utterly stupid. He could hear voices coming from a classroom down the hall, the almost-demonic chanting of French students as they repeated phrases back at their teacher in unison. He walked towards the door, cringing internally at what he was about to do, and opened it without even bothering to knock. All noise in the room stopped dead as he entered a few inches, searching the room frantically for a clock. He found none in the few seconds he had before he would be forced to speak. He locked eyes with the teacher, a completely unintentional move which sent shivers down his spine. She was older, hair in a tight bun at the top of her head and lips pursed in disdain.

"Oui?" she said, very little patience in her voice.

"Uhm, sorry, I just wanted to know what time it is?" Matteo asked, feeling the eyes of thirty young people staring him down.

"En français?" she asked, glaring at Matteo over her glasses. He could feel all colour drain out of his face at that request. He barely knew German, let alone French.   He wondered if the woman even knew that he wasn't actually one of her students, and that she didn't have any power over him in order to force him to learn French. She was lucky he was possibly running incredibly late, or he'd have given her a particularly passive aggressive cold shoulder, and left without relenting to her frankly _unjust_ use of the French language.

"Quelle... heure est-il?" It was a complete guess, something grabbed from the deep recesses of his memory. He'd never learned French, only ever heard snippets on TV and in the streets during the summer, when the tourists came in. It sounded sort of right. The woman sighed, in such a way that told Matteo he'd guessed correctly, and gestured towards the digital clock on her desk. Matteo felt like an idiot not having noticed it earlier. The clock told him he had about fifteen minutes to hurry the fuck out of there and get seated on the pitch before the game began, and so he left the classroom wordlessly, letting the door hit against the frame on the way out.

Matteo rushed through the corridors, attempting to recall just which ones he'd come through before as he weaved his way out. He was about to give up and resign himself to his new life inside Weirdly Clean Private School when something caught his eye- a large window, opened ever so slightly to let in the lightest breeze. He could see the pitch from the window, further away than he had been when he walked through the main doors, but still in his line of sight. The stands had almost filled by now, and he could see members of the crowd checking their phones impatiently. The teams would come out and the game would begin soon, Matteo knew.

And so he did the only thing he could do in this dire situation. He pushed the window out further, until it lay at an angle which left a suitable gap underneath it. Using the skirting board as a small step-up, he managed to clamber up and onto the window frame. He prayed the frame could take his weight, and was relieved to find it still intact when he dropped down and ducked out from underneath the window.

Now outside once more, he pushed the window shut, close to where it had been before in order to avoid suspicion. Just what any authority would do were they to know he had just climbed out their window, Matteo didn't know- but he also wasn't particularly psyched about the concept of finding out. He whistled inconspicuously as he began to walk away.

That walk quickly broke out into a run, however, when he heard the unmistakable shouts and whoops of Abdi and Carlos from somewhere far to his right. He needed to make his way to the side of the pitch before his friends got there and realised that he was nowhere to be found. It had taken too much for them to convince him to come, and Jonas in particular seemed to be incredibly happy that he'd accompanied them. The last thing he wanted was for them to see no sign of him and think he'd ditched at the very last second, abandoned them and the game the very moment they stopped watching over him. While he still wasn't sure he particularly gave much of a shit about the match, he knew he gave a shit about his friends, and he didn't want to hurt or upset them.

He made it to the pitch in good time, even if his lungs were burning from the sudden, unanticipated exercise. He was willing to bet that that was the first time he had run in at least a week or so.

Matteo found an empty patch of bench to sit on that seemed just right for what he needed. It was just high enough that he wouldn't bother any genuine supporters with his mere mild interest, but low enough that he wouldn't be difficult for his friends to see from the pitch. He settled there, and watched as the two teams came out onto the pitch in two separate lines. He felt a small amount of pride swell in his chest as he saw the team, David naturally taking the lead as they filed out onto the pitch, Jonas directly behind him. Abdi was halfway down the line, with Carlos the last person to arrive. Carlos was wearing a different colour to the others, a deep lavender colour in contrast to the light blue sported by the rest of their team. He'd asked the reason for this once before, and Carlos has reeled off something about tradition and the importance of the uniform and how it prevents cheating. Matteo just figured it was because the goalkeepers felt left out of the action, and wanted to look cool to compensate.

He watched intently as the game began. He'd never really watched football before, and in truth only had the vaguest idea about what was happening on the pitch. He knew the role of the goalkeepers, of course, and that there were both offensive and defensive players on each team. He also knew that Jonas had an important role to play in scoring goals- but after that, he was lost. It was difficult to follow the game when he wasn't wholly certain of the rules beyond 'score a goal, don't let the other team score a goal', but he was content enough to just watch the ball be passed between players.

Matteo began to grow worried, however, as the first half was drawing to a close. The opposing team had scored two goals already, and their side still hadn't scored. Not that they'd even had much chance- the team from the other school were on the ball constantly. It barely ever left their possession, and when it did they were vicious in their efforts to get it back. From what he could tell, their opposition were doing as much as possible to toe the rules of the game, never quite breaking or even bending them, but coming as close as they could to what could get them in trouble. Matteo felt for their team, felt for his friends. They'd all been so excited, so hopeful for this win, but if he was honest with himself he could no longer see it happening. Carlos was growing more frustrated by the second, most likely blaming himself for letting the goals slip past him, and Jonas seemed like he was about to scream in exasperation.  Each and every member of their team seemed to be handling the stress of a looming defeat badly- except for David. He had a calm expression across his face, one that never wavered throughout the game. He was determined, and he was happy to be playing alongside his team. Not once did he show signs of cracking.

The game got a little better in the second half. The team huddled during half time, and a pep talk from David seemed to lift their spirits, at least a little. It was no miracle- their team were still barely able to touch the ball, and the opposition were as aggressive as ever. Carlos had a newfound energy, however. The opposing team tried to score another three times, but each and every time, he had managed to bat the ball away before they could score. Abdi even managed to get in a slide tackle at one point, shooting the ball directly over to Jonas. The euphoria that rippled through the crowd as Jonas scored their first goal of the game was palpable. Matteo's lungs felt ready to burst as he beamed with pride for his friends.

The remaining time ticked down fast, and the two teams fell into an unmoving stalemate in the last fifteen minutes. After Jonas's goal, the opposing team had become even more aggressive in their efforts to retain the ball. However, energised by the sliver of hope, so had their own side. Both teams were now equally as determined to both keep the ball with their teammates, and ensure the ball stayed well away from their own goal.

The game ended without any additional goals scored. They lost 2-1, and while that may have not been the outcome they had hoped for all morning, the team didn't look too upset about it. Matteo watched them return back to the changing rooms, and smiled as he saw Abdi rambling excitedly, no doubt about the match they'd all just competed in.

When he saw his friends after the game, he was surprised that they still seemed in ridiculously high spirits.

"Aren't you upset that you lost?" Matteo asked, confusion clear on his face. He'd never been to a sporting event, true, but he was fairly sure that the losing team weren't usually this happy in the face of defeat.

"A little, yeah," Abdi said, nodding in a way that sort of made him resemble a pigeon, "but we've never even made it this far before. We're all just happy as fuck that we got here in the first place, bro."

He couldn't really argue with that, honestly. If it was enough to them just to make it all the way to the last game of the season, if they were so happy to achieve second place, who was he to take it away from them, or to doubt them?

"Matteo, are you coming to the pub after?" Abdi asked then, eyes wide with hope. Matteo had planned to go directly home after the game. Make some pasta, help Linn a bit with her newest hobby, maybe watch some Kitchen Nightmares, smoke a joint and go to bed. It seemed like a great plan, and he was almost excited to see it through. But he didn't quite have the heart to say no when Abdi had such an optimistic look on his face, and had just suffered a defeat.

"Okay, sure. Why not."

_Damn Abdi and his eagerness to spend time with his friend_ , Matteo thought an hour or two later. It was his round, and he was just about to turn back and head towards their table when he was stopped by a hand on his arm.

"Hey!" came the light voice he remembered from earlier in the day. There before him, drink in hand, was the football team's captain, David.

 "Hi," Matteo said, blush creeping up on his cheeks a little. The flip-flop of his stomach came back again as David smiled at him. Matteo needed to figure out what that was all about. "You're David, yeah?" he asked to push the thoughts away. It was a question he already knew the answer to, but he wasn't sure what else he could say in this situation.

 "Yeah, that's me," David agreed. He went to lean on the bar, but his nose wrinkled the moment his arm touched it. The surface shone with drying, sticky alcohol, and he removed his arm quickly and with a grimace.

 "I'm Matteo," he offered in a rush, trying to provide something for David to focus on that wasn't the sticky residue that likely lingered on his arm now. Without even thinking, Matteo extended a hand for David to shake. Maybe it was the few pints he'd already drank, or the weed killing his brain cells, or maybe he was just plain stupid, but he failed to realise that the hand he was reaching out to shake with was holding a drink until he'd moved his arm forward with such speed that the drink sloshed out over the side of the glass. Matteo watched in horror as the drink fell through the air, splashing out and all over David's shirt. David looked both shocked and slightly amused by Matteo's huge misstep. Matteo was praying for the ground to simply open up and swallow him whole.

_This is why you should never attempt to meet new people,_ Matteo thought as the embarrassment began to eat him from the inside out, _it never goes well._

He would recount the story to Linn and Hans later in the evening, through the duvet he'd hidden himself inside of as he watched Kitchen Nightmares on the sofa. Hans would laugh in both amusement and sympathy, and Linn would stroke his cheek lightly and feed him spoonfuls of her carbonara. It wouldn’t help that much, but he’d appreciate the pity.

 


	2. Chapter 2

_Ach, was ich weiß, kann jeder wissen--mein Herz habe ich allein._

_Ach, was ich weiß, kann jeder wissen--mein Herz habe ich allein._

_Ach, was ich weiß, kann jeder wissen--mein Herz habe ich allein._

Matteo had been staring at the phrase for what felt like hours. He wasn't stuck on it- in theory he was perfectly capable of reading beyond this point. There was absolutely nothing stopping him from continuing with the book, moving from this dated entry to the next and actively participating in his education. Except for the fact that every time he tried, his eyes glazed over and he ended up right back where he started. _Ach, was ich weiß, kann jeder wissen--mein Herz habe ich allein. Ach, was ich weiß, kann jeder wissen--mein Herz habe ich allein. Ach, was ich weiß, kann jeder wissen--mein Herz habe ich allein._ Time felt less than real at this point- like everything around him was frozen, and would be until he managed to make it past these words.

His head hit the desk with a thud. It sent the book he was reading from skidding onto the floor, but he didn't care enough to move to pick it back up. He'd gotten so little sleep the night before that lying there and dozing off seemed very appealing. He'd been up until the sun rose, in bed but restless and far from sleep. The joint he'd smoked to help him relax had done little to aid him, and by the time the birds began to tweet he was no longer feeling any of its effects. He'd listened as the house awoke around him- Hans rising first, at an ungodly hour, flipping the switch on the kettle to make his morning tea. Some time after, what he recognised as Linn's soft footsteps carried through the air. He wasn't sure what she had been doing, for she made little noise and he couldn't see her for the wall, but he could hear her all the same. It was comforting in a way, hearing his flatmates exist in close proximity to him without having to interact with them. Even if he was struggling with an inability to rest.

It would be foolish of him to pretend that his sudden insomnia was only coincidental. He hadn't spent those hours gazing at his bedroom ceiling thinking of nothing, after all. The only thing that had been on his mind all that time was the events of the day before. He couldn't help but fixate on the frustration he felt at making a fool of himself in front of David, the football team's captain. He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much, but something about the whole thing made him want to slam his head in a door. Maybe it was because of just how terrible a first impression he'd made. He knew just how important David was to his friends; the three of them looked up to him immensely, and he didn't want the way he had acted to reflect badly on them. Matteo wasn't sure what he'd do if his mistakes made David think less of Carlos, Abdi or Jonas. They'd never forgive him. He'd never forgive himself.

These thoughts swirled through his mind all night, an endless loop of embarrassment and self-deprecation. It was only at six am, when he caved and smoked another joint, that he managed to coax himself into a brief nap. It was nowhere near enough sleep, however, and he'd had to drag himself out of bed when his alarm went off an hour or so later. He was paying the price now.

"Matteo? _Matteo_!?"  He looked up with a start, only to see his German teacher glaring down at him, his book in her hand. "Why was your book on the floor?"

"Is it possible that it wanted to be?" he replied, tone groggy as he rubbed one eye with the heel of his hand.

"It _wanted_ to be on the floor?" she asked, as if what he had said had been open to interpretation. He tried to take the book from her wordlessly, but she moved it out of his reach. "You need to get more sleep, Matteo. You haven't been here long, and your grades are already starting to slip. I expect more of you, and you could fail if you carry on like this." He grunted in response, putting his hand out once again for the book. She gave it to him this time, turning away quickly and returning to the front of the room. When she moved, he was met with the familiar face of Amira Mahmood.

She was older now than when he had last truly seen her. He'd spotted her in the halls, of course, and knew that she sat in front of him in this class, but they hadn't interacted in years. He wasn't even sure she remembered who he was. She was as pretty as she always had been, the only additions to her appearance being the nose ring, glasses, and six or more years that had passed since they'd last spoken. Matteo had always liked Amira. They had been good friends, once upon a time. Nowhere near as close as himself, Jonas, Abdi and Carlos had been, but friends nonetheless. They'd spent a lot of time together, in the library or in the park on their road. It was sad, he thought, that they'd lived so close and yet still fallen out of touch. He supposed that was just another part of growing up, though.

She was looking at him critically, as if debating whether it was worth her time to engage with him or not. Matteo figured she probably did recognise him, then, if she was giving him the time of day. Amira was not one to waste energy on somebody she didn't think worth her time. He'd thought it was weird before, but now Matteo recognised it as a strength.

"What are you doing, Matteo?" she whispered, her voice a sharp hiss to get her disapproval across without alerting the teacher. "Sleeping in class? I thought your education was important to you."

"It is!" he protested, before reconsidering and switching to something he felt more accurate, "it was."

When they were children, Matteo adored learning. He found fun in it, and understanding things that seemed so complicated at first excited him. He always paid attention in school, did his work in class, his homework on time. He and Amira studied together, and shared the passion. It was clear she hadn't lost it, but he'd become disenchanted years ago. He didn't feel that same exhilaration anymore,  and as such his interest in learning had dwindled. He wished it hadn't, but sadly that was just the way his life had turned out, and he couldn't turn back the clock.

"What happened to the boy I knew, Matteo?” Amira asked, disapproval clear in her tone, “The one who learned all he could in DGS just because he watched a documentary with a deaf boy in it? The one who practiced signing every night, even though he didn't know any deaf people? Where did he go?"

_He's still here_ , Matteo signed. He was more than a little rusty, but Amira's words had cut deep, and it was the only response he could think of.

She gave him an exasperated look, and signed back _then maybe you need to let him out._

He wasn't sure how to reply to that. It had been so long since he'd used or even thought about sign language, and the sudden reintroduction of it into his life was jarring. He'd convinced Amira to learn it with him all those years ago, so that he would have somebody to practice with. He was surprised that she still remembered it. She'd been a little reluctant to learn, under the impression that it would be pointless because they didn't know any deaf people. Matteo had just wanted a cool new skill.

Sensing she wasn't going to get a reply, Amira sighed and turned back around to continue on with her work. Matteo let his head fall back onto his desk, head resting on the cool wooden surface and eyes closed. The darkness behind his eyelids was a lot more interesting than reading _Die Leiden des jungen Werthers_. He hoped that he would be able to get a few moments more rest, that the world would leave him in peace for just a few minutes more- but sadly, the world and Matteo were not the best of friends. A bell rang throughout the building to signify the end of the lesson period, and the beginning of lunch. He dragged himself up from his seat, packing each object he'd brought to class back into his bag as the other students filed out. Amira shot him a displeased look as she left, but he couldn't bring himself to stop his sulking for her sake.

It was selfish in a way, he thought as he left the classroom. Yesterday hadn't gone great for him, it was true. He'd gotten lost in an unfamiliar place, accidentally made a total fool out of himself in front of a class full of French students, had to climb out of a window, and ended up spilling beer all over somebody he had desperately wanted to impress. But a part of him felt as if he had no right to sulk when he thought about what had happened to somebody else that day- David.

Not only did the captain have to deal with the shame and disappointment of losing the last game of the season, not only have to try to boost the morale of his men afterwards, he also then had to deal with what could only have come across as a clumsy fool throwing a drink over him. It undoubtedly ruined his shirt. Matteo cringed at the idea that David may have needed to go home early because of him, leaving his team behind in the bar simply because of Matteo's idiotic mistake and graceless hands.

He lingered on this concept of undeserved frustration all the way out of the classroom, through the halls of the school, and into the café. Jonas, Abdi and Carlos were already seated in their usual spot near a window. The three of them had a class together immediately before lunch, which meant they were usually gathered together by the time Matteo arrived.

Today, they were a sight to behold. Abdi was laying on his back on the long bench, hands on his stomach and gazing up at the ceiling. Carlos had his head on his arms, which were crossed and resting on the table. Jonas was sat beside Abdi and opposite Carlos, looking between the two of them. Matteo couldn't help but smile at his best friends. Even in such a sight of dismay, he couldn't help but feel such deep love for them. He walked over, sitting down beside Carlos as he smirked at Jonas.

"You guys okay?" he asked, leaning over the table a little to look at Abdi properly. He was met with a wave from the boy on the bench, and a grunt from Carlos, before Jonas turned to speak to him properly.

"They're still upset about losing yesterday," Jonas explained, landing a hand on one of Abdi's knees to shake it ever so slightly.

"Ah," Matteo said, nodding. He guessed that would be the reason for their low spirits, but thought it polite to ask anyway. "There will be other games though, will there not?"

"There will," Jonas agreed. "We have our first practice today, sort of like a warm-down from the season. Would you like to come?"

Matteo almost refused out of habit, before coming to an abrupt stop in his thoughts. David would be at the practice, obviously. It would be a perfect chance for Matteo to apologise for what had happened the night before, if he came to the practice and managed to take David aside for a moment. He felt the need to at least _attempt_ to fix the mistake he had made yesterday.

"Yeah, of course," he said, and then struggled to think of a quick lie to cover his enthusiasm. "I can take pictures for your Instagram, if you'd like."

"Oh, me too!" Carlos said suddenly, quickly jerking up from where he'd been lying on the table, enthusiasm in his eyes suddenly.

"You don't even do anything that looks cool, Carlos, you just stand there most of the game," Abdi protested from below the table. Now Matteo was rested back on his own seat, he could only see the boy's knees.

"That is not true! If it wasn't for me the whole team would suck-"

The two of them quickly descended into squabbling about just who was more valuable on the pitch, and as Matteo didn't know nearly enough about football to contribute he merely laughed along with Jonas, who was now pulling his bag up from the floor, placing it on the table and reaching inside.

"It really doesn't matter," he spoke, louder than the two of them, "who you think is more important. Remember what David always says? Each member on the team is just as crucial as any other. Like a machine, if any part was missing, we wouldn't be able to work as a whole. And I'm sure Matteo is perfectly able to take pictures of all three of us."

Matteo wiggled his fingers in the air at that, as if to display to the others that they did indeed work well enough to take several pictures. Carlos and Jonas chuckled at that. Matteo suspected Abdi wasn't even able to see him from where he was laying.

A bang rang throughout the café at that moment, and the chatter around them stopped dead. Matteo looked towards the source in confusion, and saw Jonas, red creeping up his cheeks quickly.

"Sorry," he said, loud and sheepish. He'd brought a box of UNO playing cards out from his bag, and evidently placed it down just a little too harshly. The other students turned around and fell back into conversation as quickly as they'd paused, and Matteo laughed a little at Jonas's accidental scene. "But guys, you need to cheer the fuck up. We lost a game, that's it. It's just a game."

"The most important game of the season," Carlos cut in, bitterness clear in his voice.

"Yes, but there'll be other games. Other games which we can _win_. But if the two of you keep sulking for the rest of your lives, we won't even stand a chance."

Matteo couldn't help but feel like those words were directed at him too, at least a little. There was no possible way for Jonas, who was now shuffling the deck of UNO cards, to know what was going on inside his head, but he felt somewhat targeted nonetheless. And he was right, Matteo had to accept. There was no real point in sulking, it didn't achieve any real goal. All it did was make Matteo miss sleep and want to pull his hair out.

Once he'd spoken to David, he decided, he'd forget about the whole thing. It'd be a nice form of closure for the whole event, and afterwards he could move on and focus on something else. Something more productive. One night's stupid mistakes didn't have to hang over his head for the rest of his existence, like some sort of humiliating rain cloud. Despite what his friends seemed to think in their reverence, David was a man just like any other. It wasn't the end of the world for Matteo to have embarrassed himself in front of him.

Carlos nudged Matteo's shoulder, and he looked down to see a stack of UNO cards sitting in front of him. Abdi had risen from the bench now, and Matteo was almost surprised to see him vertical.

"Are you playing?" Carlos asked, nodding towards the cards. They'd found a love for UNO in the past few weeks, and Matteo was sure he'd played more games of it this month than he had at any other time in his life. It was enjoyable, though. Especially when the rules came under debate, and Jonas would inevitably shout about how it was _perfectly_ within the rules to pile both +2 and +4 cards on top of each other, and how it was _so much more fun_ because of the heightened misfortune for the unlucky player who ended up lumped with all of the cards at the end of the combo.

That unlucky player was usually Matteo, much to his own annoyance.He shook his head a little, more for show than anything else, before nodding.

"Yeah, yeah I'll play. The winner owes me a panini though, I'm fucking starving,"

"That isn't fair!" Abdi protested, arms flying into the air as he did, "Why should the winner owe you?"

"Because I'm poor and hungry, Abdi, and what better reasons are there?" He didn't seem happy with that answer. "Okay, if I win I'll buy you _all_ paninis."

They accepted the bargain at that deal. It didn't seem to occur to any of them that Matteo wouldn't win, that Matteo _never_ won UNO. He hadn't been victorious in a single game they'd played in the past few weeks, and it was incredibly unlikely he would start winning now.

They began to play, starting with Jonas and working their way around. It was clear that he had intended this as a way to cheer the others up, and it was working effortlessly. After only a couple of turns, the four of them were in much higher spirits than they had been when they'd begun. For a while, it seemed fairly certain that Matteo was going to win. He only had two cards left, and his anxiety was rising quickly. He didn't understand how, after not having won a single game before, he could possibly be so close to winning now. He didn't even have the money to buy his own panini, let alone food for everybody. He'd left his wallet at home by accident due to leaving for school still half-asleep, and now he was paying the price for it.

What happened next seemed to be by some sort of miracle. Carlos placed a +2 on the pile in the middle, and Jonas, always one to use his own rules whenever possible, placed a +4 on top of it. Abdi saw the new card atop the pile, laughed, and placed his own +4. Carlos and Jonas groaned in tandem, and Abdi looked confused as Matteo, now incredibly relieved, counted out 10 new cards for himself.

"You just helped him lose!" Jonas exclaimed, one arm extended towards Matteo.

"What? But I want to win!"

"Bro, then you'll have to buy Matteo a panini," Carlos reminded him.

"Oh."

Matteo laughed as he counted the twelve cards he now held. Jonas had four, Carlos three and Abdi six. There was no way Matteo would be able to win the game now, unless the other three pulled off some remarkable feat and gave each other a ridiculous amount of cards. He could rest easy now, knowing that _somebody_ would be paying for his panini, and it wouldn't be him. The others lost their cards quickly, and Carlos begrudgingly muttered out " _uno_ " and placed his second-to-last card on the pile in the centre of the table. Jonas and Abdi let out a chorus of _'ayyy'_ s, and Matteo smirked at Carlos as he rolled his eyes.

"Turkey and tomato, please!" he shouted after Carlos as he walked away, towards where the food was sold. Jonas shook his head at him, and Abdi made a horrified noise. Jonas cocked his head at him, confused.

"I just remembered that this jacket is the one with birdseed in it..." Abdi said in disgust, pulling his hands out of his pockets and showing the seed collected in them to his two friends.

"Dude, why do you have birdseed in your jacket?" Matteo asked, having to stifle back a laugh as he leaned closer to look at Abdi's hands. It was a weirdly large amount of birdseed. Not so much that it would overflow from his pockets, but just enough that Matteo wondered how he had only just noticed that it had been stashed in there.

"Me and Carlos were feeding birds in the park last week, and the bag broke so I put the seed in my pockets... I forgot to take it out." Abdi looked thoroughly scarred at the realisation that he'd been carrying seed in his pockets this whole time, and Jonas was red in the face from laughter.

"Why didn't you just... tie a knot in the bag?" Matteo asked, finally letting himself laugh along with Jonas. Of all his friends, Abdi was certainly the most ridiculous.

"I didn't think of that," he moaned, putting his hands back into his pockets and letting his head fall onto the table with a _thud_.

Carlos was back before long, with a panini for Matteo and a pot of salad for himself. Jonas and Abdi had both brought food with them, and they pulled it out onto the table as the four of them began to eat. It was a rare peaceful moment, and Matteo thought about how much he enjoyed being around his friends. Such quiet enjoyment of another's presence was something he'd lacked in his last school, never having any friends who were close enough for him to simply be content existing in silence around them. With Abdi, Carlos, and Jonas, it was different, and he was grateful that this was something he could now partake in.

The four of them lingered in the café for much of the lunch period, eating and then talking about mindless subjects like Jonas's ex-girlfriend Hanna, or the weird film Abdi had seen last week and hadn't stopped talking about since. It was only when they began to stand to walk outside when Matteo dared to bring up the subject burning in the back of his mind.

"Hey, guys," he asked, catching their attention, "what's with David? Like, is he a cool guy?" It was a redundant question,  and he knew exactly what their answers were going to be- the three of them adored David. However, he felt the need to ask anyway. The three of them quickly fell into excited chatter, and Matteo let a small smile make its way onto his face as he listened to them.

"He's such a good captain-" Jonas began, before getting interrupted by Abdi rambling about a specific goal he'd scored a few days ago that had just been so _unbelievable_.

"And he knows just what to say to get us all psyched for a game," Carlos contributed, "and ever since he took over as captain we've all played so much better."

"He's a great guy," Jonas agreed, opening the door that lead out from the café and into the courtyard beside it. The four of them walked out together, the three football players still waxing lyrical about their captain as they did so. Matteo had to fight to speak between them.

"I did something stupid when I spoke to him in the pub yesterday. I'm going to apologise, I just needed some reassurance that he's a decent guy first, I guess."

"Yeah dude, you know what we think about David! He's nice as fuck, whatever it is you did I'm sure it won’t even be a bother to him."

Matteo was unsure about that, but didn't have much time to counter before he heard a shriek of distress coming from Abdi. He turned around, only to see the boy waving his arms at his shoulders, struggling frantically to shoo away a pigeon which had landed on him.

"Abdi, what the fuck!" Carlos shouted, pointing at the pigeon on his shoulder, "that's a pigeon!"

"Yes, I know it's a fucking pigeon, thank you David Attenborough!" Abdi was still waving his arms around, now spinning on the spot too in an effort to free himself.

"I think he wants the seed in your pockets, dude," Jonas told him, moving towards the whirlwind of a boy. He reached his hand into one of Abdi's pockets, bringing out an unreasonable amount of bird seed.

"Why do you still have bird seed in your pockets!?" Carlos questioned, clearly finding this situation both confusing and deeply humorous. Matteo had forgotten, until that moment, that Carlos had known about the initial pocket-seeding. He still didn't understand why a more reasonable alternative couldn’t have been used, but Abdi was never one to do things sensibly.

"I forgot to take it out, okay! And this is the first time I've worn this since the other day." Abdi had stopped spinning and flailing now, and was instead craning his neck in order to watch the pigeon feeding on seed out of Jonas's hand. "How are you doing that?"

"I'm just feeding him, it isn't hard," Jonas countered as the bird pecked at the seed. He drew his hand away slowly, inching gradually away from the bird until his hand and the seed was just out of its reach. Matteo was surprised to see the bird hop down from Abdi's shoulder, flapping its wings a little as it landed on Jonas's wrist. He walked over to a nearby picnic bench, pouring the seed out onto the table and coaxing the pigeon to stand beside it. It worked, and Abdi whooped as the pigeon began to eat once more.

"Where did you learn to do that?" Matteo asked, thoroughly confused. Matteo had never seen Jonas show any interest in handling birds, and so to see him do so with such ease was startling.

"My grandmother bought some birds on a whim, about five years ago. She's never trained them though, and she just lets them out to fly around the house. She can never get them to go back into their cage, so I had to learn how to do it for her."

Jonas's grandmother having pet birds seemed like such a strange concept to Matteo. He'd met the woman a few times in his youth, and the only impression he had gained of her was that she took great pride in the appearance of herself and her home. He hadn't been allowed to sit on her green pouffe because she thought it would damage the structural integrity of the stuffing. The thought of her buying a pet, especially one as messy as a bird, just didn't fit with how Matteo saw her. He truly had missed a lot in the years he'd been gone.

The bell sounded throughout the school as they watched the bird peck at the seed on the table. The four of them separated, each with a wave to the others, and departed to whatever classes they had for the rest of the day. Matteo groaned internally at the idea of having to stay awake through even more lessons, and then the football practice after school. All he really wanted to do was go home, curl up into a ball on the sofa and have Linn feed him popcorn while they watched mindless TV.

Despite his grudge against staying conscious, Matteo managed to make it through the rest of his day, and to the football pitch after school, unscathed. He sat on a wooden bench on the side of the pitch, dropping his bag onto the floor so he didn't have to hold it any more.

Soon, the team filed out onto the pitch, the coach first to arrive. He was followed by David, and then the others, and they quickly went into warm up exercises. Because he'd never really been interested in sports, this was an aspect of being on a team that Matteo had never seen first hand. He watched as they went through different exercises, first led by the coach and then by David. Matteo wasn't too sure what they were doing, but he knew that whatever it was, he wouldn't last five seconds trying it before he ran out of breath. He respected David and his friends for being able to exercise without collapsing a lung.

They practiced what appeared to be different formations and tactics for a good while. To stave of the boredom, Matteo decided to make good on his earlier promise of taking pictures of his three friends. He walked around the perimeter of the pitch as best he could without getting in the way, taking a series of pictures of the three of them. He hoped they'd be satisfied with what he was able to capture. Once he felt he had a decent amount of pictures, he sat back down for now. He still needed to talk to David.

As if by chance, a whistle rang out across the pitch at that thought. The team disbanded, each member walking out towards the edge, or over to the piles of bags at varying points in the grass. David was speaking to Jonas as they walked, but the two split apart too soon, David walking further up the field while Jonas came towards Matteo.

"You good, Luigi?" he asked, grabbing a bottle of water from beside one leg of the bench. It was an old nickname, one that wasn't used much anymore now they were older. When it was, however, it made Matteo smile. It reminded him of being young and innocent, before he moved away and life got complicated.

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm going to talk to David, though," he said, standing up quickly, a burst of confidence suddenly rushing through him. He strode over to the captain, who was chatting idly with another member of his team. "David!"

The captain looked over to him, and as Matteo's eyes met his, the strange feeling from the previous night returned to his stomach, and his ribcage felt just a little tighter. Matteo hoped he imagined the slight fall in David's face when he registered who was talking to him.

The two walked towards each other, and Matteo was eager to get straight to the point.

"I'm sorry," he began, no preamble necessary, "for what happened last night, I mean. It was an accident and I feel like such a dick for spilling a drink on you-"

"It's okay," David said bluntly, making to turn away again. Matteo's stomach dropped at the dismissive tone. "I'm pretty busy right now with the team, so I'm going to get back to them."

"Oh, yeah, yeah you should I guess..." Matteo trailed off. That interaction went far from how he had pictured it in his head, and now he wasn't sure what to think. His friends had sung David's praises, but the captain had been so dismissive of Matteo that he felt insignificant. Perhaps he was still angry for what happened yesterday, he figured. That was likely it, but he couldn't help but feel hurt regardless.

He returned to the bench, now sitting with his elbows on his knees and his chin perched on his hands, gazing off into the distance. Carlos ruffled his hair before running back onto the pitch. Matteo tried to focus on that instead- his friends who loved him, and were definitely more important than the aloof captain who'd seemed so much nicer the day before.


	3. Chapter 3

"I don't think that goes there." Linn glared at Matteo for a moment, before plucking the red LEGO brick from where she'd just placed it. 

"Where does it go then, genius?" she asked, smirking as she handed the brick to him. Like Matteo, Linn had ADHD. As a result of this, she had a brilliant track record for fleeting hyper-fixations. She'd find something that interested her deeply, and became engrossed in it for a while. It could last a week, or a month, and occasionally even years. He'd heard the story from Hans about how when they'd first met, Linn had been several months deep in a kayaking fixation that lasted a year and a half. She still had a paddle on display on her wall, and the three of them had been kayaking together on occasion. Linn never fully lost interest in anything, it merely just got pushed into the background for something else to take centre stage.

Matteo was quite similar, if he was being honest. At least, he had been when he was a child. His hyper-fixations were never on hobbies, though, but on learning. Matteo would find a subject that deeply interested him, and would make learning everything he could about it become his number one priority. It was how he'd come to spend over a year learning sign language. It had also resulted in him knowing a lot of obscure, random facts- such as the fact that diet soda cans floated, but regular soda cans did not. 

He hadn't had a hyper-fixation in a while, though. Nothing seemed to interest him enough to make his heart swell any more. This was the reason he'd taken to joining in with Linn on her hobbies. He missed that passionate feeling of loving something so intensely- the euphoria of finding and experiencing something that overtook your mind and body to such an extent that it felt like you were breathing it. It was another kind of love, something he'd never been able to express well to somebody who'd never experience it. And he truly, deeply missed it. So if he couldn't have his own, he would settle for someone else's. 

And Linn didn't really seem to mind. In fact, she was elated that somebody was willing to do these things with her, that there was someone who wanted to sit and listen to her babble about the different forms of juggling, or go to pottery classes with her. He knew that a lot of people without ADHD wouldn't do these things- they saw no harm in dismissing their friends' fixations, because they simply didn't realise just how intensely these things mattered. Didn't understand how heartbreaking it can be to be told that your constant babble about the global importance of the fall of Ðiện Biên Phủ is annoying, and that nobody cares. Matteo understood these things, and so he made it his job to ensure Linn felt appreciated, and that her interests were valid, no matter how fleeting.

This was how he found himself sitting cross-legged with her in the middle of their living room floor, as they both hunched over a half-built LEGO replica of a spaceship from Star Wars. Linn had found herself deeply interested in LEGO recently, and Matteo had never realised just how expensive those sets were. She spent €200 on only a few, small builds. They hadn't even finished all of them- the first took them four hours to complete, and they'd had to do some major reconstruction when Hans accidentally knocked it off a shelf. They were hoping to not make the same mistake with this one.

"It goes over there," he corrected, pointing to a spot on the other side of the ship. It was part of the decoration on the back of the ship, and there was one just like it on the opposite side. Linn saw this, and her mouth formed a small 'o' as she slowly placed the brick into its rightful place. 

They worked on the ship in quiet peace, one of Hans's playlists playing out gently in the background. Hans made a lot of playlists. Matteo wasn't sure how he still had new music to compile, but every week or so he'd open a message from his housemate that contained nothing more than a new Spotify link and a few smiley-face emojis. He'd never admit it, but he was grateful for the links. While Matteo and Hans definitely didn't have convergent music tastes, it was nice to have something new and peaceful to listen to while they worked.

After a few hours, the ship was almost complete. Linn collected the last ten or so pieces they needed to complete the ship, and Matteo stood up from the floor to walk towards the kitchen. They hadn't eaten since they'd began, Linn clearly too focused on what they were doing to even think of food. Matteo had heard her stomach rumble several times while they'd worked, but she hadn't seemed to notice it. He was getting hungry too, and so set about making sandwiches for the both of them. He was grabbing cheese from the fridge when he got a text from Jonas.

_ 'smoking at the river in 10. wanna join?' _

Matteo hadn't been out of the house yet this weekend. He still felt down about what had happened with David, and hadn't particularly been feeling up to leaving the house for anything. Matteo had never been good with embarrassment or rejection, no matter how subtle. The slightest hint of disinterest or the smallest mistake made him want to crawl into a hole and never show his face again. His therapist had called it  _ rejection sensitive dysphoria _ . His father had called it being a pussy. Whichever it may be, he'd spoken to nobody but Hans and Linn for the past day or so. He was in his hole, and he didn't wish to leave. Weed seemed incredibly tempting, however. He'd run out yesterday, and hadn't yet got around to messaging his dealer.

He closed the fridge without looking as he typed back  _ 'who with?' _ and pressed send _.  _ He liked the idea of smoking by the river, and they'd done it several times before- but Jonas knew many more people than Matteo did. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of getting high with strangers right now. 

Jonas almost immediately replied  _ 'David'.  _ That was all Matteo needed before quickly typing back a _ 'yeah'  _ and hurrying to finish making the sandwiches. His answer was impulsive, and the result of very little forethought. He'd like to believe that his enthusiasm was simply the result of his proclivity for drugs, and the excitement of getting high. He knew in the back of his mind, however, that it simply wasn't true. There was something about David that made Matteo not want to give up on making a good impression. It didn't seem to matter that he'd already embarrassed the guy and then been given the cold shoulder by him; something within Matteo still yearned to be his friend, to be liked by him. It went past simply wanting to make a good impression for the sake of his friends, too. Matteo wished he was able to understand his own mind as he sighed and placed his sandwich into a small plastic bag, before handing Linn her own.

"I'm going out to meet Jonas. Are you good to finish this?" He knew she would be- there were only three pieces left to be placed now, and a couple of stickers. What he was really asking was  _ would you mind if I left? _ , but he knew he shouldn't say that aloud. Linn suffered from rejection just as he did. She dismissed him with a quick nod, and he shot a grin back at her, leaving to find his shoes.

Matteo and Jonas had discovered the river together several years ago, two young kids on bikes with no real destination in mind. They'd ridden through field and forest until their legs ached from pedaling, stumbling across the body of water just as they'd began to consider going back. It was a beautiful patch of land, and the two boys had been grateful for the open grass to lay in, and so they had stayed there for hours, resting and dipping their toes into the river. They'd come back to this place regularly, showing it to Abdi and Carlos too when they'd both agreed to share the secret place. Matteo had stopped joining them not long after he'd moved schools- but on his return, he was happy to see that the three of them had never abandoned their spot. 

He'd been walking for a good few minutes when he began to smell the welcoming stench of cannabis. His pace picked up a little, eager to meet his friend and the captain, and to join in with the activity. The closer he got, the clearer their laughter was.

He always loved this spot. The thicket of trees stopped abruptly, as if by design, and formed an edge around a fairly large stretch of grass. There were daisies strewn around everywhere, and a few patches of wildflowers ran through them. The river cut through the whole area, emerging from the trees on one side and disappearing behind them on the other. Matteo had no idea how far it stretched, and had never really been able to find it on any map. It was as if it existed solely for them. 

The light danced off the water in such a way that it made the surface sparkle, and it gave an ethereal beauty to the place. The leaves from the surrounding trees filtered the sunlight before it reached the ground, and so a soft glow was cast over every inch of the clearing. The sound of the river flowing, and splashing against the few rocks that poked above the surface of the water, made this a soothing place to exist.

Matteo emerged from the trees, quickly spotting the two people he'd come to join. They were sitting opposite each other, cross-legged in the grass between the river and a large patch of daisies. Jonas was talking, though Matteo couldn't hear his words, and gesticulating wildly, a joint in his right hand and his guitar by his side. David was laughing along, teeth bared as he tilted his head back in joy. There was a dandelion sitting behind his ear.

"Ay, Luigi!" came a shout from Jonas as Matteo approached. He grinned and gave a wave, nodding towards David, who returned in kind. For the sake of politeness, he decided to sit equidistantly between the two, facing the river. The minute he reached the ground, Jonas's arm was outstretched to hand him the joint. It was a thin, weak little thing, likely more tobacco than weed- Matteo liked the idea that Jonas had been waiting for him to arrive before starting on a proper joint.

"What are you guys talking about?" he asked, bringing the joint to his mouth and inhaling. He was right- it was mostly tobacco. 

"Just the game the other day," Jonas replied. His hands had come down to tear at the grass now. Matteo passed the joint over to David.

"Jonas was just telling me about some ideas he had for new team strategies," David said as he took the joint from Matteo. He took a pause to inhale. "We're not letting one loss get us down." He beamed at Matteo as he breathed out, and that weird feeling made its way back to Matteo's stomach, somehow  _ worse  _ this time. His lungs felt like they were going to burst, and not from smoke. 

He was just relieved, obviously. Whatever tension he'd thought there had been between he and David, it seemed to have dispersed. David was talking to him, smiling at him and generally seeming content to be in his presence. It was a stark contrast from the version of the captain he had been building up in his head- the one who dismissed him bitterly because of one mistake, who likely hated him. Matteo couldn't help but curse himself for jumping to such conclusions based on one interaction. He'd never been very good at reacting to situation rationally, though. His mind would always rather believe that everybody hated him. 

The joint came back to him, now burnt down to a pitiful roach. It hadn't lasted long,and he doubted it was meant to. The moment it came to his lips, Jonas was already setting about rolling a second, much fatter joint. He'd also dived back into the football discussion that Matteo understood very little of. Instead of trying to listen and figure out what was going on, he chose instead to take Jonas's guitar from where it lay on the ground, and see if he could remember how to play anything. He'd spent a month or two trying to memorise guitar chords, but that had been over three years ago now and he hadn't had much opportunity to practice since. 

"Oh, you play guitar?" It was David who was speaking to him. He looked over at the boy, who seemed to be studying him intently. He couldn't quite decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Ah, not really," he said, shifting the guitar from his lap and taking the newly lit joint from Jonas. The first one had had very little effect on him, which was certainly his own fault. If he didn't smoke as much as he did, his tolerance would be much lower. It'd be a damn lot cheaper for him to get high. 

Matteo cocked an eyebrow at David as he shifted the guitar off of his lap and on to Jonas's. He wasn't even sure why he did it, his muscles moving before his brain had even taken the time to process the thought. He felt a little embarrassed after, bringing the joint to his lips and ducking his head to avoid David's gaze. He was grateful when Jonas started to play a familiar tune. He'd heard it somewhere before, but couldn't quite pinpoint where. Jonas played without speaking for a few minutes, Matteo and David passing the joint between themselves quietly, listening. He stopped for a moment, holding out his hand for the joint to be passed to him before he started to speak.

"I used to play that for Hanna sometimes," he began, inhaling smoke and then breathing it out towards the sky. Matteo was feeling pretty stoned by now- he and David had smoked half the joint by themselves, with David smoking quite a lot less than him. "She thought it was sad, but beautiful. Melancholic and nostalgic in the worst way, how the two of them once meant so much to each other and now they're to be nothing but strangers. I guess that's us now, though." There was sadness in his voice at those last few words. From what Matteo had heard, Jonas and Hanna had been dating for quite a while. They'd broken up a month or so ago, not long after Matteo had arrived at this school, and Jonas was still far from over it. He could tell that he still loved her deeply. He remembered Hanna from elementary school- a tiny, red haired girl with a face full of freckles. She was sweet back then, and he could see exactly why Jonas would fall for her. His heart ached for his friend. He didn't like to see Jonas in pain. 

"Sing it," David prompted with a nod of his head. It seemed an odd request to Matteo, but David seemed confident in himself. Jonas nodded too, taking a long drag of the joint before passing it back to David. It was the opposite way to how they'd been passing it before, which meant Matteo lost a turn, but he didn't say anything. He was pleasantly high already, it didn't matter if he missed out on a drag or two. This way, he could gaze at David while he smoked, and there was a certain amount of deniability there. Not that he particularly wanted to gaze at David; that's just where his eyes were drawn at that moment. 

Jonas coughed, and started back at the beginning of the song. He slipped up a couple of notes in on his first attempt, but restarted and began the song properly.

_ I saw you from the bottom of the stairs before you knew I was coming _

_ And though nervous and scared, I lingered on _

_ I heard most things break by the ends of these types of nights, _

_ So I'll force upon every word I've brushed up on _

_ Since knowing we won't speak like this again _

Matteo often forgot that Jonas could sing. It wasn't surprising- Jonas was exactly the type of guy to have a guitar and a book full of sad songs. But he didn't tend to show this side of himself too often. It was nice to see. 

It was a fairly short song, but a nice one nonetheless. Matteo could see what Hanna had meant about it being melancholic but beautiful. It felt like one last hug from somebody you'll never see again, or knowing you can never go back home, because it isn't there any more.

He'd definitely reached the 'talking bullshit' point of being high. 

David stood up suddenly, handing the joint to Matteo, who watched his movements as he kicked off his shoes, pulled off his socks and rolled up his jeans. He was deeply confused for a moment, before David walked the short distance over to the river, sitting at the edge and dangling his feet into the water. The river had a pretty slow current, and was only around knee height- so all things considered, it didn't seem too bad an idea. Matteo let his gaze linger on David for a while, a smile stretching across his face, before mimicking the other boy's actions and moving to sit next to him beside the river. Jonas was laying down now, playing a song Matteo recognised from the radio. He felt content as he brought what was left of the joint to his mouth and inhaled. It was barely-there now, almost nothing but the roach, but he wasn't sure he wanted to give up on it just yet. 

_ When my time comes around _

_ Lay me gently in the cold dark earth _

_ No grave can hold my body down _

_ I'll crawl home to her _

He was having a really nice time, he thought as he kicked his feet in the water a little. The feeling of the current rushing past his legs was oddly soothing, and the sunshine and warm grass were welcome too. David was sitting incredibly close to him, in a way that made his lungs stop working if he thought about it for more than a few seconds. He still had no idea why David seemed to have such a strong effect on him . He was just a guy, after all. Yeah he was a pretty good football player, and apparently a great captain too- but neither of those things mattered to Matteo. He didn't care about football in the slightest, certainly not enough for him to feel such strong emotions at the presence of a captain. 

But he wasn't just a captain. David was a man more beautiful than any other Matteo had ever seen. He had his hair gelled up and away from his face today, and he almost missed the way his hair usually fell so gently above his eyelashes. That near-careless yet overwhelmingly attractive way that Matteo had failed to imitate ever since he'd first seen it.  _ Attractive _ ? He couldn't quite believe that such a word had come to mind so effortlessly, especially in this context. David was a lot of things, but was he attractive? Was Matteo attracted to him?

He obviously wasn't. He couldn't be. Matteo wasn't gay, for a start, and surely you had to be gay to be attracted to guys? He definitely wasn't gay; no matter what the guys at his last school had said. He wasn't. 

He decided to think about anything other than David, with his tan skin and seemingly perfect hair. He put his hands into the grass behind him, leaning back a little and looking up to the sky. He allowed himself to listen to the music Jonas was playing, feel the water running over his skin, breathe in the warm air around him. He lost himself to the sensations easily, mind wandering before he'd even realised it had happened. That was one of his favourite things about being stoned- yes you could have jarring, possibly-life-altering realisations with no real prompt, but you could also forget about it for a while with just as much ease. 

They stayed like that for a while, not speaking, just listening as Jonas played and the water ran past them. The high was just beginning to fade when Jonas stood up, patting Matteo on the shoulder in a friendly way before announcing that he was leaving. It didn't quite dawn on Matteo that he would be alone with David until Jonas was halfway to the trees, and the anxiety started to creep in as he waved his friend goodbye. What if he was wrong, and David was still upset with him? What if every one of his actions since Matteo's arrival had been an act, and in actuality he was waiting for a moment alone with him to tear him to shreds? How was he supposed to cope if the atmosphere changed so suddenly?

His quick anxiety was for nothing. David pulled his phone from his pocket slowly, giggling to himself a little as he did so. He played a song out loud, and Matteo could tell it was by the same artist Jonas had covered earlier. 

"I love this song," David beamed, thumbs tapping together in front of his phone screen and feet swinging a little in the water. "I don't know if you've heard of it."

"I don't know if I have," Matteo agreed. Whatever it was, he liked it. He tried to commit a line to memory so that he could find it once he was sober-  _ the only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm alone with you. _

They were both silent for a while, nothing passing between them except for the music playing from David's phone. Matteo wasn't entirely sure how long they'd been sitting there for- it could have been hours and he would not have noticed. He was particularly bad at keeping time while he was stoned. 

"I was worried," Matteo said without even thinking, "that you hated me. After I spilled that drink on you. It seemed like you were still mad at practice the other day." His impulsivity was much worse when he was high. When he was sober, he did a lot of things without fully thinking them through first. The first hint of a drug in his system and all rational thought went straight out the window.

David shifted a little, moving his hands behind him and leaning back on them in a way that mimicked Matteo. It took him a moment to speak. "I was," he began, nodding deeply and slowly. "Mad at you, I mean. I thought that maybe you'd thrown the drink on me on purpose, because you didn't like me."

"Why would somebody throw a drink on you just because they don't like you?" Matteo asked, confused. He'd disliked many people in the past, but had never felt any inclination to douse them in beer. 

"Because I'm-" he stopped himself, shaking his head gently, "it doesn't matter."

"Well I don't not like you, for the record." Matteo said, all clumsy wording and almost not making any sense at all. He could feel his cheeks heating up a little. He hoped David didn't notice. "And even if I did... not like you... I wouldn't just throw a drink on you for it."

"I'm glad to hear that," David laughed.

Matteo shivered suddenly, his whole body shaking and an involuntary noise escaping his mouth. He hadn't noticed just how cold it had gotten in the past few minutes, the warmth leaving the clearing as the sun set in the sky. The wind had picked up a little too, and now he thought about it he could hear the shaking of branches and leaves. He'd been too high to notice before. 

"Are you cold?" David asked, head tilted to one side and a smirk on his face. Matteo's stomach tied itself in knots. 

"No," he lied, a little too quickly to be believable. 

"Here," David said, taking off his hoodie, "take this."

"But won't you be cold?"

"I'm never cold. It's a superpower." He passed the hoodie over to Matteo, who accepted it reluctantly and pulled the sleeves over his arms. It smelled of cinnamon and chocolate. The knots got tighter, and on a completely, entirely unrelated note, Matteo was finding it a little hard to breathe.

There was silence for a few moments, before David spoke up again. 

"Jonas told me that you wouldn't do that," he said, looking away from Matteo and towards the other end of the river.

"Huh?" Matteo mumbled, a little confused. His thoughts had been on the smell of cinnamon and chocolate, and the feel of folded paper in the pocket of David's hoodie. Wondering what exactly was written on it. He'd been so preoccupied that he'd forgotten what they had been talking about. 

"Jonas told me that you wouldn't throw a drink on me on purpose. That you don't hate me at all, really. He said you'd been asking about me after the game, but that you didn't seem to dislike me."

Matteo's heart jumped to his throat. Why would Jonas tell David that he'd been asking about him? Just knowing that David knew about that made him want to sink through the grass and mud of the clearing and never return, sooner become plant food than face the fact that the captain knew he spoke of him. 

"I just wanted to learn more about you," Matteo muttered, staring dead at the ground as a blush crept back onto his cheeks. "I haven't been here long, so I don't really know much about anyone."

He hoped, near  _ prayed  _ that what he had just said didn't sound as pathetic as he imagined it to be. His asking after David when he'd only met him once- he almost sounded like some lovesick schoolgirl.

Which definitely, sincerely, Matteo knew he was not. 

"I haven't been here long either," David hummed, picking at the grass just in Matteo's field of vision. He couldn't help but wonder if that was purposeful, "I started here at the beginning of last year. My sister's used to work for the mafia, so we had to get new identities and move here."

"The mafia?" Matteo asked with a laugh, finally looking up at David, who was beaming back a smile wider than any Matteo had ever seen on him, "that's hardcore, bro."

"Oh I know, she has seventeen confirmed kills."

"I thought that was a military thing?"

" _ Shhhhh _ ," David shushed, a finger to his lips to accentuate the point. The two of them laughed, and Matteo let his hands slip to fall back onto the grass. David joined him. 

"I used to go to elementary school with people here," Matteo began, his hands shifting somewhat in his pockets. "I've been friends with Jonas, Abdi and Carlos since I was a kid. Amira Thalia Mahmood too, if you know her."

"I know Amira," David nodded.

"Yeah, we were good friends when we were young. I wanted to go to this school from the beginning, like everyone else, but my parents wouldn't let me. We lived much closer to another school, and my aunt told them it was better than this one, so it was all decided for me."

"So how come you're here now, then?" David asked. He sound genuinely interested, which surprised Matteo. He wasn't sure why- it was common decency to sound interested when somebody was talking to you. 

"Well, let's just say I'm not on the best of terms with my parents right now," Matteo explained, and David nodded slowly, knowing. "I moved out of their home and into a flat-share. The flat was much closer to this school, so I transferred." There was a pause for a moment. "Of course it isn't as exciting as being in the mafia and needing a new identity."

"I'm sorry," David said, and Matteo was confused for a second before he elaborated, "about your parents."

"It's okay," he dismissed, waving an arm in the air, "I like my housemates better any way. Hans brings home chocolate waffles sometimes." 

"Oh well that makes all the difference," David agreed, his tone serious but with a distinct hint of playfulness. 

They laid there for a long time, long enough for the high to fade and the sun to disappear from the sky completely. They decided to leave the clearing when the river grew too cold for their feet, and the two of them walked back together through the trees and out onto the streets of Berlin. 

"It was nice talking to you," David said, swaying slightly on the spot. His gelled hair was messed up from lying on the grass for so long, and Matteo had to force back a grin at how endearing it was. He didn't know what was wrong with him lately, or why everything David did seemed to cause some form of reaction in him. Especially ones that felt so close to infatuation. 

"You too," he choked back, bouncing on his heels a little, anything to distract him from the thoughts currently swirling around in his head.

"Well, I have to go. But will you be coming to the game? It's in a couple of days, I don't know if the others told you."

"I'll be there," Matteo confirmed with a smile. David reciprocated it, before turning with a wave and walking in the opposite direction. 

_ You don't even like football, you idiot  _ Matteo thought to himself, sticking his hands back in his pockets and walking down the street and away from David. It was at the feel of the folded paper tucked beside his fist that he remembered the hoodie he was wearing was not his own, but when he turned around again, David was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! I'm sorry this chapter took so long, my laptop charger decided to break + I left my harddrive at uni while coming back home, so I've had to work on an old af computer from memory, without the plan. It kinda felt like the universe didnt want this chapter to happen lmao. But it did! And I'll hopefully be getting my hard drive back soon so I can work on the next chapter asap.  
> If you enjoyed this chapter and have the money, please consider tipping me on kofi, bc it'd really help me out https://ko-fi.com/garconrouge

**Author's Note:**

> hmu at sourflorenzi.tumblr.com


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